Crisis Core: DISSIDIA
by Elementalias
Summary: An AU version of Dissidia, using mostly OC's. Cameos by all official characters may be a possibility in the future.


Chapter One

Masaru Korosu already didn't like where he was.

_Wherever_ he was.

He stood at the edge of a cliff, like he did so often back home. But the sights that he saw were nothing like his home. Everything here seemed so unnaturally bleak, morose, and sad. He could feel that sadness just by being here, and he felt so much sadness here, he found it almost unbearable. Quite ironic, since he felt sad most of the time anyway. Even when he was happy. That was just the kind of person he had turned out to be.

He looked out over this gray, dingy, empty place and sighed. Everything here was gray, silvery, or white. All around, there seemed to be a shallow bit of water that covered the ground. In the middle of this miniature flood, there was some long object, perhaps an altar or seat of some sort, surrounded by some smaller objects that were scattered around the area he was watching. He sighed again.

Sadness. Pain. That was most of the feeling that he got from this place. There was something else here too, something he could not find the word for right now, but that feeling was a little less depressing than the rest of what he felt. It might have been hope, though Masaru knew not what for.

A cold wind blew in suddenly from the east, upsetting both the collar around his neck and the collar of his jet black jacket. Not to mention his coattail, which tapered off at his ankles, and his long, white-silver hair, and both pairs of earrings he wore. His pants matched the jacket, as did his boots. His shirt was more of a silver than a gray.

The wind passed and he slowly set about fixing his head so that he looked halfway decent. You couldn't introduce yourself to anyone looking like a mess, after all. Or at least, that was the way that he thought.

Quite normally, he might have seemed composed and calm to some, but his face belied his true nature. His mind was a chaotic zone, one that even the most insane of men should not touch. That, and for him, battle was his form of art. It was his way of expressing himself to others. His movements in a fight were the steps of dance, and the sounds of battle were the symphony to which he performed. One could not describe him as the type that lived for battle, though, since he really spent more time thinking or being depressed than fighting.

Battle was his form of self-expression, yes, but he saw no need in fighting without purpose. Until what seemed a few moments ago, his resolve in fighting was to protect himself and his brother and sister, plus the others that lived with him. His family had been his reason.

But they were not here now. Not Mana, not Daiki, none of them. His reason was lost. And he was so confused. How had he gotten here? The last thing that he remembered was falling asleep, though he knew that odd things tended to happen to him as he slept.

His mind had a tendency to play cruel, sadistic tricks on him, but he could tell that this wasn't the case this time. Wherever he was, this was real. Luckily for him, he at least had someone with him at all times, someone wise that he could turn to when he needed advice. Who knew that a fusion between two souls could be so useful?

"Garron-sama," he began to say. The spirit of an older man appeared behind him, off to his side, his form somewhat ethereal and glowing faintly. How strange that Garron-sama seemed younger than Masaru remembered. No, the other was younger-looking, almost Masaru's age, it seemed. Masaru still called him "-sama" out of respect, since the older man had taught him so much. "I'm going to have to fight here, won't I?" Masaru sounded hesitant, just the same as he felt. He also always sounded depressed or sad, which was no surprise, given how he usually was.

The old man did not answer, for he did not know, either.

The younger man looked at the spirit of his friend and master, the other looking at him as well. Their eyes met for a brief moment, and then both looked at the sky at the same time, as if they were reading it, studying it. Both men were silent for a long time.

"They aren't here." Masaru said after a while, half to himself and half to Garron. "They aren't here." he repeated. There was no hint of emotion in his voice when he spoke then, but Garron could tell that Masaru was holding in his sadness. Masaru nearly _had_ to have other people around him to be his normal self. The fact that he had Garron was a blessing to him. He'd been lonely and broken for a long time, before.

Garron only knew that because the two could share thoughts with each other; when they had fused souls with one another, they learned nearly everything one could know about the other, whether they wanted to know it or not. And now, neither could really hide anything from the other. Not that there was anything to be gained in doing so, anyway.

Masaru smiled, glad that he had someone with him. He wasn't quite alone anymore. His mentor was always with him, until the day he finally went down for good. Yes, his brother and sister were not here, but if he had to end up fighting so that he could return to them, then that was that. He was just going to have to suck it up and fight when the time came. That was if he had to. But something in the air told him that what he was feeling was true.

Nonetheless, Masaru had his answer. He was going to have to fight someone at some point. And he would. That was his answer. He was satisfied to that end.

The same soft smile still on his face, he leapt from the cliff edge, free-falling....

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End file.
